Page 51 of Risky Game

He was standing at the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, staring outside when I entered, and when the door closed, he jerked, spinning in my direction.

I settled my back against the cool wood door to calm my racing heart. A fruitless endeavor. I was already breathless at the sight of him.

“You’re my boss,” I stated.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, without acknowledging what I’d said. I could understand the confusion. Hadn’t stepped foot inside this room since I’d been in the house.

I ignored him like he had me and restated, “You’re my boss.”

His jaw ticked and he scratched at his scruff. “I am. But—”

“And I’m probably way too young for you.”

Those dark eyes flared. “You are.”

It came out as a growl and I watched with rapt attention as he crossed his arms over his chest. His own breathing depended.

“Ruby…”

“I don’t care.” I pushed off the door but forced my ankles and legs to stay steady despite the blood rushing to my head and parts farther south.

This was an epically horrible idea, but this time, it was my idea.

“I don’t care about any of it. All the reasons why this is bad. I want you to do to me exactly what you described earlier.”

…if things were different, there’d be nothing stopping me from throwing you down on this table, having you for breakfast, and spending the entire day with your legs wrapped around my waist until you forgot your name…

A shiver rolled through me before I could stop it, and I licked my lips. Goose bumps sparked on my arms, and I fought the urge to rub them away.

Logan was glaring at me. Jaw popping, tension tightening his shoulders. His nostrils flared and he shook his head. “Ruby.”

I took another slower step forward until I was so close to him I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. And then I copied his words from last night. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.”

He cursed. Dropped his hands to his sides and clenched them into tight fists. Veins popped on his forearms, a map of power that vanished beneath the sleeves of his STEEL T-shirt. A map I wanted to trace with my tongue.

Indecision warred on his face, and it only increased the weight in my breasts, the slight sting of pain in my nipples as they hardened under his glare, and the throb at my sex.

I was desperate for him.

Desperate for the promised pleasure I knew he’d give.

Before he could back out, step back into reality and become sane, I asked him, “Are you planning on dating anyone while you have Amelia here?”

“No,” he all but growled.

And it was so delicious my toes curled into the rug beneath my feet.

“I don’t want to date anyone, either. Not since…” I shook my head. Paulie wouldn’t be brought into this. “Not for a while.”

“That doesn’t mean this is right.”

I took that last minuscule step forward and placed my hand on his chest. His heartbeat pounded beneath my palm and when I brushed my hand over his pecs, he didn’t stop me.

“No one has to know. We can keep this between us. Just sex, Logan. That’s all I’m asking for.”

His nostrils flared, and his Adam’s apple bobbed on his corded throat as he smiled. “Just sex.”

He sounded filled with doubt.

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